The last battle
by Zetai
Summary: Not the kind of battle you expect.


**The last battle**

Madara leaned back and took another look at training Sasuke. He had been sitting there for a while, watching the little Uchiha, but most of the time he was just staring absent-mindedly at him, lost in his own thoughts and memories.

The kid had gotten insanely strong. But he was still just one little angry Uchiha. He was impressive, indeed, but not as impressive as… Madara sighed. He couldn't help but indulge his urge to sink in the memories of that man from his past. Oh how Madara longed to taste such power again.

Hashirama. No one was like Hashirama.

It wasn't easy to impress Madara, considering the scale of his own strength. And if one couldn't impress Madara, Madara wouldn't even look at them. What he hated the most were weak shinobi. None of them could ever catch his attention, neither on the battlefield, nor in bed. Especially in bed. The more impressive a man was on the battlefield, the more attractive for bed purposes. Madara made no compromises. He slept either with very powerful warriors, or with ordinary people with no ninja skills at all. However, the latter he did rarely, only if there was no one interesting around. But weak shinobi he could not stand. There was no way he could get off on such a thing.

Hashirama... Madara had been trying to deny one thing. The fact that Hashirama was the best on the battlefield made him the most desirable one. At that time Madara truly admired Hashirama and sort of hated him too, cause he was supposed to hate all Senju, but he had the dreadful feeling that the admiration was prevailing the hatred. And behind the admiration there was that feeling… Well, the kind of feeling that should never cross an Uchiha's mind even for a second. To have that kind of feeling towards someone from Senju was unthinkable. However, the feeling was a fact. If only they were not in this situation… There was some irony in this. The fact that they were rivals and had fought many times, tasting each other's power, had led to the appearance of such feelings in the first place.

Their clans were in conflict and the remains of that conflict never died, even after the alliance, so Madara tried to suppress everything he felt. Until that fight. Madara smiled. "Fight". At least that's what it was supposed to be.

Memories, memories… Madara sighed, observing Sasuke's fluid motions on the training ground. This little Uchiha, trying to play the evil villain. Going around with his blank cold face, babbling how he was going to destroy this, destroy that, destroy Konoha, kill everyone, kill Naruto. Eh, young people's tremendous enthusiasm for bloodshed. Not that bloodshed was bad, but thinking only about this all the time was sort of annoying.

At least the kid was strong enough to catch his interest. Having him was fun, especially now when Itachi was gone. He couldn't replace Itachi, but he was a lot of fun, indeed. Little Sasuke never bent over for Madara willingly. Madara always had to fight him first. He would let him attack like mad, and then, when he got tired of this game, he would finally defeat him and tie him up. Oh how he loved those furious glares, cruel and menacing glares that Sasuke threw at him over his shoulder, being bent over in front of him and taking his cock deliciously deep. It wasn't that Sasuke didn't like what they were doing, but he knew he had to make a show. If he was too willing, it wouldn't be interesting for Madara.

However, Hashirama was a different thing. It was so long ago…Madara didn't even need to fight him, the mere thought of Hashirama's strength was enough to send tingles all over his body. But Hashirama was forbidden. Madara didn't know what exactly Hashirama thought about him, nor he let himself contemplate on this matter. All this was forbidden. Or so Madara thought, until that day…

Madara sighed heavily. It couldn't be helped. He would let himself drift in these memories once again.

Sasuke was completely forgotten as Madara closed his eyes and let the images take over him. That "battle"…

...

(OMG, the dirty memories!)

He was standing there, his long black hair dancing in the wind. Waiting for Hashirama. "Leave the village alone, this is between you and me," Hashirama had said. And there he was, approaching Madara, with that annoying smile on his handsome face. And this long hair, it would probably be so silky if Madara could touch it… Oh no, forbidden thoughts. Madara shook his head to get rid of the disturbing thoughts and tried to keep the cold blank face. This was a difficult task when being around Hashirama. These warm brown eyes… It was ridiculous. Such power and combat abilities just didn't fit with this soft smile and caring expression. And Hashirama always looked like this, even before battle. Madara hated it, he truly hated Hashirama being this way. And he hated himself, cause he knew damn well that he hated it because it made him shiver and think about what things could be if they weren't enemies.

He was standing there, waiting for Hashirama's attack that never came. Hashirama just kept walking toward him, he didn't look like he was planning to make a move. Little did Madara know that he was planning to make another kind of move. However, Madara didn't drop his guard, he had to be ready for anything, even if Hashirama wanted just to talk to him first.

Hashirama stopped in front of him. This warm look in his eyes… Damn, why he was making things even more difficult?

"You know, Madara, I've been thinking… I know you want to defy me, but maybe fighting isn't the best way to deal with this matter."

Madara couldn't believe his ears.

"Senju, have you gone mad? If not fighting, then what? Rock, paper, scissors?" Madara was not in the mood for jokes, but the words somehow escaped his mouth. He frowned. "This is serious, Senju, one of us will die here today."

Hashirama waved his hand. He wasn't laughing, but something in his eyes was. "Oh man, we fought so many times before, it's getting boring. You know what it will be like, we'll fight for hours, we know each other's skills, we're somewhat equal in power. I'm sick of the same old crap over and over again. Let's do something else."

Madara was utterly shocked. What the hell was Hashirama doing? He wasn't supposed to talk like this. Not on the battlefield. You just can't talk like this on the battlefield! Was he all right? Maybe something had hit him on the head today.

"Hashirama?"

Madara realized it was difficult to keep his voice from trembling. Hashirama had made a step forward and had gotten closer to him. Close enough to brush a strand of spiky hair away from his face and look at him straight in the eyes. The hand that brushed his hair hesitated for a moment, then the fingertips touched his face and slid down his cheek.

"What the hell are you doing, Hashi… Hashira... ma…" Oh so suddenly it was so difficult to speak.

"We won't fight, Madara. You have a problem with me being chosen for hokage and you want to confront me? Well, there are other ways to test our strength. One of us has to be defeated, right? Now here's what we'll do."

Madara got tense, waiting to hear Hashirama's idea.

"We'll screw."

Madara's heart skipped a beat. The voice was stuck in his throat, but he somehow managed to mutter "What?" The word was blurred and sounded more like a gasp.

"We'll fuck, Madara. Whoever lasts longer is the stronger one. The one who comes first loses, and the other one wins. See? Nice and simple."

Madara's mind was reeling, Hashirama's hand stroking his face gently.

"Ah, come on, say yes. Let's see if I can help you make your mind."

Madara's mind wasn't even reeling, it went completely blank as he felt soft lips on his mouth, wet tongue parting his own lips and plunging inside, slowly ravishing him, persistently, but not too aggressively.

Hashirama pulled away and admired Madara's glazed eyes, lips still parted, thin streak of saliva at the corner.

"So? What do you think?" Hashirama looked at him, this Uchiha miracle, dangerous and deadly, the only person who could be his match in battle. Madara was so cruel, yet his features were so soft and beautiful, framed with black hair so rich and shiny. This was the first time ever for Hashirama to see in these cold eyes a hint of uncertainty and hesitation, and such adorable bewilderment. There was no jutsu in the world that could catch Madara off guard and bring him in this condition of utter confusion.

Madara's lips moved as if he was trying to say something, but no sound came out at first. Hashirama wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, he leaned his head until their cheeks brushed, bringing Madara's lips closer to his ear, as if trying to listen more carefully. He felt Madar's breath on his neck and then he heard a breathy, barely audible "Yes".

"Yes what?"

Madara's face twitched. The damn Senju was trying to make him talk and say wrong things.

"Yes, we'll… we'll… do as you say."

"Which is what?"

"Don't play dumb! You suggested it, you know what it is!"

"Why don't you tell me?" Their close proximity made it very convenient for Hashirama to start giving Madara long slow licks on the neck.

Madara shivered, feeling the hot tongue glide against his skin.

"Damn it! I said yes already! Aaaah… I said yes."

"Yes what?"

"Whatever you say, aaaah."

"Which means that we'll…" Hashirama waited for Madara to finish the sentence.

"Fuck." The word came out like a breathy moan, and the sound of this particular word leaving Madara's lips sent a hot wave straight to Hashirama's groin.

"I've seen your attacks, Madara, all your tricks. I know what you hide up your sleeve. Now I want to know what you hide in your pants." Hashirama chuckled lightly at the way Madara's breath had become erratic. "In the front," Hashirama's hand slid down and cupped Madara's crotch, "and in the back," his hand moved to squeeze Madara's ass.

He could feel that Madara had started to press against him and grind into his body, probably he wasn't even realizing what he was doing, he just subconsciously followed the urge that was arising in him. They were both hard already, their massive erections rubbing together. Madara began to register his own reactions, but it was too late to stop or to deny the intensity of his desire.

"So, what do you think?"

Madara was tired of Hashirama's attempts to make him talk dirty.

"I think this." He grabbed a strand of Hashirama's hair and pulled him in a kiss so fierce that he surprised even himself.

"I see." Hashirama whispered when they parted, both of them breathless.

"And what do you think about this?" Deft fingers slipped in the front of Madara's pants and wrapped around his cock, stroking it slowly, the thumb and forefinger squeezing the head lightly, then sliding all the way down to the base, then up again, faster, then slow, then fast again.

"I think… I think… aaaah… ah… oh god, Hashi-… aaaaaaaah!"

He heard Hashirama's low grunt in his ear, followed by a chuckle.

"Yeah, I knew you would say that."

Madara was panting heavily. He fisted Hashirama's hair again and pulled it. "Damn… aah… you."

Hashirama let him go and smiled. "For this kind of battle, I think we should take our clothes off." He was surprised at the speed of Madara's undressing.

"Someone's eager, huh? And you seemed so hesitant at the beginning…"

"Shut up!" Madara hungrily stuck his eyes on Hashirama who was removing his own clothes.

Both of them stood and stared at each other, wearing nothing but their smooth skin and sculpted muscles. No one did anything for a minute or too, as if they both wanted some time to merely marvel at each other, finally getting what both of them apparently craved for.

But time was passing and someone had to attack. With a swift movement Hashirama knocked Madara on the ground and pressed their lips together, Madara wrapping arms around him and kissing back with equal passion. They rolled on the ground like this, limbs tangled, lips locked in a kiss, tongues swirling.

"Let me taste all of you." Hashirama grunted and moved down Madara's chest, leaving a trail of licks and kisses, playing with the nipples, dragging his nails on the skin.

Madara squirmed as he felt the hot tongue go lower, slide over twitching abdominal muscles, then going around the hottest place, not even barely touching it, and then swirling on the inner side of his thighs, making his legs shake slightly.

He closed his eyes and tensed as he felt the tongue going up, getting closer and closer. When it touched his balls he trembled and arched, and he couldn't hold a wild moan when it went all the way up his cock and finally the plump head was taken between warm lips.

"Hashirama…" His voice was hoarse. The lips were still playing only with the head, brushing the underside while the tongue was tickling the tip. Unexpectedly, he was swallowed whole and fiercely sucked. It made him scream and force himself to open his eyes. The view was too good to miss. The first hokage, the best of Senju, was taking his cock so deep in his mouth with such diligence, that just the sight of it made Madara almost come. Then Hashirama tried to shove all of him in his mouth, and this wasn't easy, considering the size. But Hashirama was extremely skilled not only on the battlefield, he took it deep and Madara felt the head hit the back of his throat and then plunge even deeper. It felt so narrow and so soft.

Madara groaned, but Hashirama pulled away and continued to suck just the head.

"Aaaah… this… what you did was…"

Hashirama lifted his brow. "You want something?"

"Aaah… again…"

He smiled. "Again what?"

"Aaah, now don't tease me like this, just… again!"

"Madara, Madara, you should express yourself more clearly. Again what?"

"Just do that thing again!"

A few licks on his head. "What thing?"

"Idiot! Take me deep again, like you just did."

"Hmm, take deep what?" A playful smirk.

"Fucking Senju! Shove my cock in your throat, you bitch!"

"Now that's a nice talk."

Before he knew it, Madara had his dick deep in Hashirama's mouth again. And again, and again.

He was lost in bliss when he suddenly remembered that the whole thing was actually intended to be some sort of battle.

"Stop it! You're trying to trick me, huh? Sucking me like crazy to turn me on and make me come faster, so that you can win. Bastard! To make us even, now I'll have to do the same to you!"

Hashirama chuckled. "I wouldn't mind at all. Here, take your time." He sat on the ground and leaned back, his legs slightly spread, and offered Madara his long, thick cock.

Madara lifted himself from the ground and moved to kneel between Hashirama's legs. He was supposed to make his best to bring Hashirama in the same condition of excitement he himself was already in, for the sake of the battle. But when he leaned down and took the rigid cock in his mouth, he felt like a dog, crawling to his bowl of food offered by his master.

He looked up. "I'm only doing this because if I don't, you'll have my excitement as advantage in the battle."

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep going."

Madara sucked the plump head in, licking all over it. Then he lowered his head, feeling more and more of the thick shaft slip through his lips. He pressed it tightly with his lips and started moving up and down, his tongue working on the head every time he pulled up. He could hear Hashirama panting and quickened the pace.

"You know, Madara, you don't seem to be very talkative, but I'm not like you and I can't help commenting how beautiful those plump lips of yours are, so full and soft, taking my cock so sweetly."

Crap. Why this damn Senju couldn't just sit there and enjoy the blowjob quietly? No, the bastard just had to smirk and talk dirty.

"I want your tongue on my balls, Madara. Come on, you want to make us even, don't you? I'm not as turned on as you are. Not yet. Try harder. Lick me, Madara, lick me where I want."

This was too much. When would he shut his damn mouth? Madara knew that he had to do what was required. It was for the battle, he tried to persuade himself, but the feeling of the big cock in his mouth was too pleasurable and he couldn't deny he truly enjoyed it. Hashirama was delicious, so delicious…

"Mmmm" Madara was hungrily licking his balls.

"Oooh, oh god, enough!" Hashirama pushed him away.

"Really? I thought you weren't turned on enough." It was Madara's turn to be mean. He leaned again and kissed Hashirama's chest, his tongue deftly swirled around the hardened nipples, his teeth just barely scraping them.

"Aaah, I told you to stop!"

Madara was smirking. That Senju better not underestimate him.

Hashirama managed to regain his composure.

"Well, Madara, I think it's time to make things serious. Let's get down to business."

Hashirama reached for his clothes and took out a small bottle of lube. The bastard had thought about everything.

He looked at Madara and smiled.

"There's one more thing we need to decide, Madara. You know what it is. I'll let you decide, and I'll accept whatever you say. So, tell me. Which one of us? You or me?"

Madara inhaled sharply. He knew this was coming. After all, they couldn't be both on top at the same time. Someone had to bend over.

Madara had always been on top. Always, with no exceptions, no matter how powerful his partners had been. He always felt he was the stronger one, and the stronger one didn't get on the bottom. He would never let anyone weaker than him top him. But he saw Hashirama as his equal. Hashirama was his enemy. A rival. Someone Madara had always wanted to subdue. But if Madara wanted to taste what it was like to be taken, now was his only chance.

Hashirama waited for his answer, sparkles flashing in his eyes. The damn bastard. Madara felt as if the man was reading him like a book. Hashirama already knew what the answer would be. If he wasn't so sure of the answer, he would never ask Madara to make the decision.

Slowly, without saying a word, Madara turned around, kneeled, bent down and leaned on his arms. Hashirama smirked.

"Good. Now let's see who has more stamina."

Madara gasped as he felt two palms being rested on the cheeks of his ass, gently massaging them, then fingers brushing softly the crack up and down. It tickled and he trembled, the sensation made something squirm inside of him whenever the fingers touched that small puckered spot. Then he felt his ass cheeks being parted and a tongue mimicking the movements of the fingers, then swirling on his hole and pushing inside.

"Aaah, Hashirama, you bastard!"

"Now, Madara, don't tell me that this is too exciting for you and don't try to accuse me in turning you on too much to make you come before me. I know that for the sake of the battle you're probably bold enough to let me fuck you without preparing you first, but I'm sure you don't really want this. So, just stay still while I fingerfuck you and make your hole slick enough."

Madara gritted his teeth. Why this damn Senju had to be so descriptive? Talking dirty seemed to be quite amusing for the fucking bastard. Little did Madara know that Hashirama wished to tell him a very different kind of things, but realized it wouldn't be wise to do so and just kept talking bullshit instead. Besides, talking to Madara like this was amusing, indeed.

Two slippery fingers penetrated him and found something inside him that made him let out a sound similar to mewling.

Hashirama smirked and Madara froze in horror at the sound that escaped his own lips. The fingers rubbed him there again and he couldn't hold another moan. The damn Senju certainly knew what he was doing. Madara could feel the fingers go as deep as possible and ravish him thoroughly, touching and pressing, sliding in and out, curling inside him and rubbing that spot again and again.

"You're trying to trick me again, Hashirama." Madara muttered between pants and gasps. "Stop trying to make me come before you have even stuck your dick in and get down to business already."

"Ah, your way of expression is so funny, Madara. Are you begging me to slam you with my cock?"

"What? I didn't say that!"

"Don't take your words back. What you said meant to stop fucking you with my fingers and start fucking you with my cock, correct? So, are you begging for my dick?"

"No!"

Hahirama smiled nonchalantly. "Fine, then I'll keep doing you with my fingers, cause it's fun."

'Damn!' Madara thought, 'If he goes on like this, I'll get closer and closer, without him getting any stimulation to make him come, I'll lose!'

"This wasn't the idea, Hashirama, you should feel something too, so… well, you know."

"Mmh, no, I don't think I know. What exactly are you trying to say, Madara?"

It was difficult for Madara to talk, having these maddening fingers up his ass, but he yelled "Moron! Just take out your fingers and shove your damn cock!"

"Where?" Hashirama asked his little innocent question with sweet clueless voice.

"Damn you! Shove your fucking cock in my ass!"

"Like this?"

The slick head of Hashirama's cock slowly penetrated him and didn't go further, just moved back and forth with short thrusts, teasing his entrance.

"No, deeper!" All this was driving Madara crazy.

"Say it to me, Madara, say it to me the way I want to hear it."

Madara was panting, he just couldn't stand it any more.

"Stick it in to the hilt, you bastard! Shove your big cock deep in my ass. Is that what you want? To make me talk like a slut!" Madara wiggled his ass and pushed his hips back impatiently.

"Well, it suits you, Madara." With a smooth thrust Hashirama slid all of his cock inside and started a slow rhythm. He would make it faster later, but for now he would go easy on Madara. He was sure it was Madara's first time this way. Hashirama himself had been on the bottom many times, he liked to switch places. This time he wanted to be on top just because it gave him a feeling of dominance over his rival. He knew Madara wanted to experience the same feeling of dominance, but curiosity would make him want to try something new, and Hashirama knew that Madara would dare to try such a thing only with him of all people. It was fun to see how Madara bends over and offers his ass without even being asked to. Madara could have easily said he wanted to be seme, but he didn't. He was given the chance to choose, and he chose to be uke.

It was so sweet, having him like this. Hashirama plunged in and out of him, marveling at the silky softness of his insides and the tightness of his virgin ass.

Madara was moaning, lost in pleasure and still a bit angry at what Hashirama had made him say. He promised himself he wouldn't say even one more word, no matter how the Senju bastard would try to provoke him.

Poor Madara. He had let his pride take over him and he couldn't think clearly and estimate the advantages he had. Apparently, the dirty talk turned Hashirama on. If Madara started saying all kinds of obscenities and talking like a dirty whore, begging to be fucked and moaning Hashirama's name, he would make Hashirama come in no time and he would have the chance to win. However, the poor thing was merely enjoying the slams in his ass and couldn't realize what a clever strategy he was ignoring.

"Oooh, Madara, it feels so good, your ass on my cock," Hashirama snarled in his ear and started licking his neck.

It was getting difficult for Madara to hold his reactions, Hashirama was taking him so good, shoving his cock as deep as he could, whispering lustful words in his ear, kissing and licking him. His Hashirama, the man he wanted so much, so beautiful and hot, so powerful.

Hashirama increased the pace and took Madara's cock in his hand. He stroked it gently, swirling his fingers all over the length, rubbing the head, touching the balls from time to time and then squeezing the thick shaft again.

"Hashirama! Hashirama… don't… not like this… I… oh god… so good…"

Hashirama smirked and bit Madara's ear, squeezing his cock harder.

"Like this? You can't resist, can you? You will lose, Madara, but you'll get the best fuck in your life!"

Hashirama started giving him harder thrusts, he deliberately made them just a bit slower and as deep as possible. When he felt Madara was on the verge, he increased the pace again.

"I can't… Nnnhh, aaaaaaaah… Ooh, Hashirama! Hashirama…"

He was spilling his cum all over Hashirama's hand, screaming his name, arching and squirming.

When Madara calmed down a little, he felt Hashirama pull out. 'What? He won't even come? He can do it now, he won anyway, why…'

He didn't have time for more thinking as Hashirama turned him over, carefully placed him on the grass over their scattered clothes, and plunged back into him. 'He wanted us to face each other?' Madara was slightly confused.

"You lost, Madara, but to affirm my victory, I'll make you come one more time before I come too." Hashirama started thrusting and took his lips in a gentle kiss.

Madara's heart was pounding, what disturbed him the most were not Hashirama's words, but that thing in his eyes, so warm and affectionate, that thing that said so many things without a single word.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Hashirama and pressed him tightly.

The rhythm was very slow, Hashirama's fingers roaming along Madara's face, tangling in his hair. The touches were gentle, the kisses were soft. That was what it would be like if they could… if they were… That's how things should be between them, but they couldn't…

Madara's moans were like those mewling sounds he had made when Hashirama's fingers had touched his sweet spot for the first time.

Hashirama broke their kiss.

"No matter how much a person desires something, there are things that are not meant to be. There are dreams that are bound to remain just dreams."

Hashirama had hoped that after the formation of the alliance between Uchiha and Senju, Madara would accept the situation and the two of them officially would stop being enemies. And then they would be free to let their feelings for each other grow and to indulge the desires both of them secretly had. And maybe to have something that could last… Now it was clear for him that he was wrong. And the realization of that fact cut through his heart with intensity that surprised him. All he could do was use his last chance to taste what it would be like if he could have Madara the way he truly wanted.

He knew damn well that Madara couldn't simply change his mind about everything, forget his ambitions and purposes and live peacefully in Konoha by Hashirama's side till the end of his days. Madara was not the kind of man who would abandon his ideas because of a relationship. To ask him do it would be like asking him to kill himself. And when you like someone so much, so much that you're tempted to call these feelings lo-…whatever. So, when you're attached to someone to such extent, you don't ask them to destroy themselves. He would never want this from Madara.

"You know…" Hashirama panted. "You know this is a one time thing. And you know it's like this because of you, not because of me. If I were to make decisions, I would have you stay here forever and we would be like we are now… always. But it's you who still refuses the peace. I understand you would never change your mind, but I just wanted you to know… what I think about you."

He wanted to say "feel", but considering the fact that their one time together wouldn't lead to anything, he preferred to use less powerful words.

What he saw in Madara's glazed eyes told him that the man was in some mixture of torment and ecstasy, and the torment must have come from Hashirama's words.

"I know… I… You know I can't. But… I always wanted. It's just not meant to be, like you said. At least I have you now. Aaaah… now… mine."

It was getting difficult to speak for both of them, sensations becoming more intense. Madara could feel that Hashirama, true to his promise, was bringing him closer to another orgasm.

Madara wrapped his arms more tightly around Hashirama's neck and pressed him closer, claiming his lips for a kiss, as if he already felt the bitterness that would come when this was over, and he was trying to take as much of Hashirama as he could.

They broke the kiss and Madara noticed that Hashirama was looking at him like he was trying to memorize every detail of his face. What made him feel in heaven and in the same time hurt him the most was that look in Hashirama's eyes, the look that showed him what Hashirama had felt all this time, what he had hoped for, and what he was going to lose inevitably. Madara had never thought he would see anything like this, he believed he was alone with his secret desires, believed that Hashirama saw him only as a rival in battle, he didn't even dare to hope that the man might feel the same as him. And maybe it was better this way because whatever they felt for each other would have to fade away without the chance to develop. But now he knew, he could see what was in Hashirama's heart.

Madara closed his eyes, it was too unbearable to see how now he received exactly what he craved for, and how he would lose it before he could even have the time to truly enjoy it.

"Hashirama!" His nails clawed his lover's back, breathing getting more ragged. Madara brought their faces close, his gaze frantic, he pressed their lips together as he felt his hips jerking from the intense sensation. He was on the verge and Hashirama sped up, being on the verge too.

With a few last slams Hashirama pushed both of them over the edge, keeping his lips locked with Madara's.

The "battle" was over, there was a winner and it was time for them to go their separate ways. They were lying next to each other, and when Madara was calm enough to speak, he said. "You won, Senju. You can keep on playing the 'hokage' game and rule over this stupid village. I won't cause troubles. For now. I don't want a war with you. I don't give a shit about the village, but a war with the village means a war with you. And this I can't stand."

"You can accept…" Hashirama started.

"What, Hashirama? Everyone knows that we're fighting today and the stronger one should kill the other. I can't go back and tell everyone that I got defeated because you fucked my ass so good. And then just stay and live in the village peacefully. You know I can't. I'll never show up again. And you'll tell everyone that we fought and I died."

"Fine."

Madara got up to take his clothes and leave. In the last moment Hashirama grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. He pressed him in a crushing hug, his face buried in Madara's messy hair.

"Just one more minute… before you go. Just one."

...

Madara suddenly opened his eyes at the sound of Sasuke's chidori. He was ripped off of his thoughts and started observing the kid's training again. His memories were getting to the painful part, anyway. How he had walked through the forest, walking away from Hashirama, feeling this horrible knot in his stomach and this cold grip on his heart… No, he better not think about this any more.

Madara sighed. He had changed so much after that day. He had contemplated how many other precious things he would have to lose. It seemed like it had no end. It was then when he started to notice all the little things, it was then when he laughed like crazy for the first time just because someone had said something silly. Spending all your life with that blank face, following the rules of what you're supposed to be and what you're not supposed to be, it felt like being a walking corpse. And what was the use of it?

However, all his new discoveries didn't fit the image of an Uchiha. Not at all. Such kind of behaviour was unthinkable. It was wrong. But it wasn't wrong for Tobi. Tobi was perfectly free. Tobi could do all the things Madara couldn't. Tobi could have whatever he wanted.

Sometimes Madara thought it was pathetic. Pretending that Tobi was someone else. Pretending he had nothing to do with Tobi. But he just couldn't give it up. The sweet illusion of not being yourself. That kind of freedom was just too sweet.

Madara heard the sharp noise of trees and rocks cracking as Sasuke was practically changing the landscape. He wondered for a minute what the kid would think if seeing more of the Tobi personality. Now when he had revealed who he really was, Madara had abandoned the Tobi role. He sort of missed it.

Madara chuckled quietly. Sasuke could never understand the charm in Tobi's freedom. Madara looked at the kid again.

Sasuke had just finished practicing some techniques and was now sitting on the ground to get some rest before he went on with the training.

Madara smiled.

"Sasu-chaaaaan!" he squealed with Tobi's voice. It was a silly thing to do, but he knew it would be worthy just because of Sasuke's shocked face.

He could see how Sasuke suddenly froze, then slowly turned around. On his face was some amazement mixed with pure horror.

"What?"

Madara shrugged innocently.

Sasuke glared at him with anger and suspicion.

"What did you just say?"

Madara shook his head. "Ah, nothing, nothing."

Sasuke kept glaring at him.

"Oh, come on, Sasuke, you're hearing things." Madara got up. "You're training for hours, I think that's enough. Now why don't you take your pants off?" He got ready to counter Sasuke's attack.

**The end**

**... ... ...**

**Author's comment**

I had never thought about writing this pairing and was never interested in the first hokage until I saw that episode where they showed young Hashirama and Madara. They looked so cute! I couldn't resist the temptation…

Characters are not mine, they belong to Kishi.


End file.
